Malik couldn't feel his feet on the ground; his vision was rapidly going in and out of focus. What was this place, why was it so dark? A chill enveloped his tanned skin and a wind from an unknown source tosses his flaxen hair two and fro. Before him, he suddenly saw an ornately decorated mirror. Gazing into its depths, Malik could see his reflection, a young violet eyed Egyptian. The image, however, suddenly changed disturbingly. His features became warped and grotesque. Malik cried out and struck the mirror, silver shards flying this was and that, some were embedded in his hand. Malik winced as the crimson streams flowed down his hand.

A woman's hand suddenly gripped Maik's, the woman's skin was almost as tan as his. Malik shifted his gaze to her face, she appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, and her raven hair was partially obscured by a tan veil. Her eyes were a mysterious shade of gold.

The woman spoke, "Malik, I am here to warn you, you will soon fight for your life, please take great care, and when you find "her" don't push her away."

Malik gazed in shock as the woman's form began to fade. "Wait, who are you? What are you talking about? Who is this person I'm not supposed to push away?" But all was in vain, the woman was gone.

A shrill sound of an alarm clock awoke him from his slumber. Malik found himself in bed.